


Princey Bride

by Jinx_Luck



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Character Death, Fairy Tale Elements, Multi, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17353211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx_Luck/pseuds/Jinx_Luck
Summary: Roman promised him he would wait.He didn't expect his father to sell him to the king.Roman wasn't in love with running the country, not anymore. But now, unless a certain someone comes back, he may end up being the Prince's Bride.Princess Bride!AU





	Princey Bride

"Hi, honey." Joan saw their mother come in, even through the haze in their eyes and brain. She sat on their bed, and started petting their hair back. They leaned into it, and their mother gave them her best half smile. Joan's mother always seemed to tired for a real one, lately. And a little stab of pure guilt entered their system when they remembered what the doctor said.

"He'll-"

"Its them, doctor. If you would please. My child is nonbinary." Their mother had a firm but gentle look on her face, crossing her arms. Joan, even feverous, admired their mother. They really loved her, and did so as fiercely as she did them.

The doctor had cleared his throat and tapped his own against his clipboard. "-They'll be better soon. Mostly, your child is sick from the stress of the situation. It happens with children whose gone through extreme stress at quick succession."

Their mother's face fell. "Oh."

The memory only made Joan double over coughing in their pink and blue quilt. Their mother rubbed their back.When Joan could finally speak they gave their mom the brightest face they could, despite the fact it hurt and even they knew they were to pale. "Hi, Mom."

She seemed to glow above them. "You feelin' any better?" Joan felt lighter. They practically melted at the soft touches, they way their curly hair brushed back.

Joan mumbled. "A little bit." They looked down and started picking at the loose threads under their fingertips. Their mother stopped petting their hair and started fidgeting her hands in her lap. She bit her lip and looked at Joan. "Guess what?"

Joan's eyes shifted over. "What?"

Their mother took a deep breathe. "Your Grandfather's here." 

“Mom, can't you tell him I'm sick.”

“You're sick?” She covered her mouth in a mock-shock expression, her eyebrows raised high to match her wide eyes. She laughed at Joan’s pout. “That's why he's here. He wants to know if your okay…” Her voice seemed to lose momentum.

“He'll pinch my cheek. I hate that.” Joan crossed their arms. 

“Maybe he won't .” 

“Heyyyy!! How's the sickie, eh?” Joan's grandfather was as loud and dramatic as he always was. When they were younger, their grandpa was the best person ever. But Joan’s dad didn't like how their grandpa could pull a fantasy story from air, how he could enter a room with a flourish. Once Joan had even heard him yelling at their mother. 

“That stupid old man can't keep filling our sons head with fantasies! It won't help him in the long run.” 

They were snapped out of it when calloused hands pinched their cheeks. Joan looked their mother with an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. “I think I'll leave you two pals alone.” Quickly and quietly she left the room.

“Ah, well.” Their grandpa shrugged, identical to their mother. “T-She's missing all the excitement. And,” a twinkle seemed to appear in his eyes, and suddenly Joan could swear all the wrinkles by his eyes disappeared, “the surprise I brought you.” 

Joan leaned forward quickly, getting dizzy from the momentum. “What is it?” They hadn't gotten a gift since… 

Well it had been a while.

A poorly wrapped box was handed to Joan. The wrapping might have been terrible, but the paper was colorful and it was heavy. 

“Well? Open it up. Go on.” 

“Hold on grandpa Thomas!” Joan laughed, the paper being ripped to shreds in seconds. When he opened the cardboard flaps, he found..

“A book?”

 

“That's right. I know your not big fan of reading because of the dyslexia.” Their grandpa looked at the ceiling. “But it was the book my father used to read to me when I was sick, and I used to read it to your mother, and today, I'm gonna read it to you. If you would like me to.”

“Is it realistic?” Joan looked at the cover. It looked old. And when they touched it, the book definitely felt brittle and smelled like the classics section in the library.

“It’s very realistic! Why its accurate on all the betrayals of loyalty, truth, love, and how bonds are formed!” Grandpa Thomas waved his hands as he talked, and for a moment he looked exactly like an old photo their mom showed Joan. 

“Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try and stay awake.” Joan laid back in their covers. As long as they weren't trying to read something that didn't even have the right font while they felt tired, it shouldn't be terrible. Hopefully.

 

“Oh. Well thank you very much. Very nice of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. All right.” Grandpa Thomas winked at them and Joan felt himself relax. They settled back into their star sign pillows and studied their grandpa’s face. Grandpa Thomas sat in the old brown chair by Joan’s bed. “The Princes Bride, by S. Morgenstern, Chapter One. Roman was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin. His favorite pastimes were riding his horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was Virgil but he never called him that." Grandpa Thomas looked up from the book. “Isn't that a wonderful beginning?”

“Yeah, it's really good.” Not normally what Joan would read if given the chance, but not bad. 

Grandpa Thomas smiled and went back to reading. "Nothing gave Roman as much pleasure as ordering Virgil around." 

~  
The farm was smaller than many in the King's kingdom. But Roman's father only kept it to drop off his son. Count Elms didn't have time for his third child, and sent him away with one servant to accompany him and see to all his needs. A few big sweeping hills of grass, enough crops to feed his son, and a bag of money for any other needs.

“And one last thing.” The count had gestured in front of him. A boy was thrown to Roman's feet like a bag of potatoes, kicking up dust and dirt. Roman coughed, covering his mouth and eyes. When the air cleared, he looked at his father and ignored the boy. 

“Why?” he pointed to the boy, who was struggling to get up only for one of his father's assistants to shove him back over.

Right in Roman's legs.

“You may be a waste of a child, but your still mine. And until I find a fool rich enough to pay for your hand in marriage, you need a servant to cater towards your needs.” 

“But father!” Roman grabbed the Counts sleeve. “You can’t possibly be-”

Roman was knocked against the ground alongside the servant. “Don't touch me you worm.” He shook his hand. “The scouts will be back to check on you at a later date. Is that understood?”

“Yes father.” Roman looked up at his father, brows lowered and lip bleeding. The scowl on his face was a fraction away from a frown. He got up to his knees and grabbed the hem of his shirt in a vice grip. “I shall wait here for the scouts until you kind find me a suitor.”

“Good.” he didn't take another look at Roman, and instead left in his carriage. 

Roman waited for his father to leave before he stood up. The servant quickly got to his own feet. He was bowing to Roman, yet what he couldn't see was the utter frustration on his face. “Hello sir. My name’s Virgil.” 

Roman was already heading towards the small house before Virgil could finish, tears streaming down his face and an overwhelming sadness in his heart.

“....Okay.” Virgil sighed and headed for the servants courtiers. “Great. Fantastic. I’m a damn farm hand.” 

That was the basis of how their relationship went on. Roman felt betrayed, and took it out on Virgil. 

“Farm Boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.” Roman would say, trying to seem dignified even as he handed Virgil real cooked food and a pitcher of water. “And don’t forget to take care of yourself. Or else.” 

“As you wish.” Virgil said, trying not to smile when he saw Roman hiding behind the pillars outside the stable.

He wouldn't leave until he saw Virgil eating. 

-

“‘As you wish' was all he ever said to him, besides snarky comments when the two would argue.” Grandpa Thomas laughed, and Joan snickered. The two of them sounded like dorks, but they had to admit they didn't feel bored. Joan grabbed his stuffed bunny and listened to grandpa Thomas’s voice echoing around the room.

-

The days were thankfully full of warmth. And slowly, the cold that seemed to take over Roman’s soul melted. Virgil, as it turns out, was the same age as him. He just had been malnourished when Roman’s father had gotten ownership of him.

Something Roman, through a lot of food and badgering to get him to rest, fixed. Now Virgil was much better, and a lot more…

Virgil chopped wood, and Roman could see his muscles bulge.

Built was the word he was looking for. 

Although whenever Roman needed him, despite the fact that he could leave, Virgil always did what he asked.

“Farm boy, fill these with water… please.” It was reluctant. Their. Whatever they were, wasn't built on a foundation that was more servant and master.

Except, Masters didn't fuss over injuries.

Except, Servants don’t leave a pit in their Masters stomach and an ache that could barely be ignored.

Except, Roman had been given Virgil’s paperwork for his freedom and set in on has dresser while he slept.

Except, Virgil was still there the next day, to Roman’s relief. He felt selfish, hoping Virgil wouldn't leave. But the joy when he saw the dark eyes and shocking purple hair filled him to the brim.

“As you wish.”

-  
Grandpa Thomas sighed, as though he was remembering something fondly. “An amazing day is when Roman had realised that at that point, when Virgil said ‘as you wish’ what he meant…” he paused for suspense, looking at Joan’s big eyes.

“What Grandpa? What does he mean?!” Joan balled up his fits.

Their grandpa chuckled. “What he meant was ‘I love you.’ And, to Roman’s disbelief and excitement, the most amazing day was when he realised he loved Virgil back.”

-  
Roman was nervous. He had prepared a picnic on the hill with the best view. He would tell Virgil how he felt. Roman could do it, he was the proud son of Count Elms!

The air seemed to dry when Roman actually saw Virgil, once again shirtless and Coming back from riding his horse. Suddenly he wasn't the Counts son. He was Roman, a man who had been falling for Virgil for two years. 

He took a deep breathe. “Farm boy...fetch me that pitcher.” 

Virgil smiled and brought the pitcher of water with him. Roman had the pitcher of wine he had gotten from trade. “As you wish.”

Roman tried not to blush when he saw Virgil’s eyes barely look at the spread beneath them, keeping his eyes only on Roman.

Always. Always on Roman. And well, he wasn't much better, looking at Virgil. 

“I thought maybe we could have dinner together today.” He wanted to smack himself. Virgil had long moved into the house, and regularly ate dinner with each other. Roman’s father would smack him for the way he was twirling his fingers. “I, I mean. Dinner together put here to watch the sunset.”

Virgil’s face was redder than a tomato. It eased Roman’s fears at least.

“Y-yeah. Yes. Um. As you wish?” Virgil brushed his bangs back to look at Roman. 

“Good. Because I wish for you to join me. If you want to.” Roman bit his lip and sat down. 

“Whatever you say, Sir Sing a lot.” Virgil said, a smirk on his face.

By their third glasses of wine and when most of the food was gone, the both of them leaned against each other while they watched the sun start to go down. Their laughter seemed to roll over the hills, and if Roman ever thanked his father for anything, it would be for giving him this. And if he ever managed, he would thank Virgil for letting him in on the world's best kept secret. 

Virgil’s smile.

The stars started appearing even with the sun still being up. It was warm and bright. The quiet of their piece of country side was better than the vengeful chatter constantly around his old home. He finally leaned away from Virgil. He turned to look him straight in the eyes. 

“Virgil. There's something I think we need to talk about.”

Virgil immediately sat up. “What? What's wrong?” he already had a gleam of panic in his eyes. Roman cupped his face and shook his head, trying not to laugh. “No, no, nothing bad. Nothing wrong. But Virgil.” Roman leaned in, gently placing his forehead against Virgil’s. 

“I love you.” Roman stilled himself. His first instinct was to run when Virgil didn't say anything. But he saw the look in his eyes right before tears silently went down his face. “Oh my god Virgil, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he started to let go of Virgil’s face when two hands stopped him. 

“Roman. I love you too.” Virgil leaned closer. 

Roman felt his breath hitch. Virgil smelled like the wild flowers he brought Roman earlier, and like the woods. “Kiss me.”

“As you wish.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I hope you guys like the au!<3 My Tumblr is Jynxlovesluck, follow me for updates on this story and sneak peeks of my others!


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